


Yet to Come

by seki



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seki/pseuds/seki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This thing between them was still terrifyingly full of unknowns, as far as Sanada was concerned.</p><p>A small vignette, some time in the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yet to Come

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yukiscorpio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiscorpio/gifts).



"You're being ridiculous. Again."

"Am not," said Sanada. "I seriously think he has a chance of cracking the top 10 this season."

Yukimura gave the figure on the screen a dubious look. "Utter bullshit."

Sanada turned a pleading look towards Renji, who shrugged.

"Some help you are."

"I'm not making that sort of prediction, Genichirou. Tezuka's good, better than he was last season. But the top players are excellent, and age is clearly not slowing them down."

Yukimura sniffed. "Top ten in Japan isn't much of an accomplishment, anyway. You wait. I'm going to be _world_ -class when I get out there."

Renji patted Yukimura on the head. "Yes, yes, we know. Finish high school first."

"What are you, my mother?"

Renji grinned, and leaned against Sanada's side companionably. "Shh. Watch the game, you might learn something."

Yukimura narrowed his eyes dangerously, but turned his attention back to the screen.

Sanada slid his arm around Renji's shoulders, trying to make it seem as spontaneous as possible. Renji put one hand on Sanada's knee and squeezed it affectionately before letting go; good, that was encouraging.

It had been just over two months since Renji'd casually asked Sanada if he'd ever thought about kissing him, and _nearly_ two months since Sanada had thrown all his doubts out of the window and _actually_ kissed Renji. This thing between them was still terrifyingly full of unknowns, as far as Sanada was concerned. Still, he'd noticed that Renji seemed to really like it when he initiated any affectionate contact, and there was a _tiny_ pool of people in front of whom that was acceptable. He pulled gently on Renji's shoulder, and Renji obligingly shifted fractionally closer to him, so their knees were touching.

"God, you two," murmured Yukimura without looking over, his voice filled with amusement, "get a room."

Renji elbowed Yukimura in the ribs, and they both chuckled. Yukimura's teasing was new, too; he'd been _obviously_ trying not to probe or joke too much as first, and it had seemed to take a while for him to decide what he could say without offending or upsetting them. It was reassuring. Yukimura without that edge of barbed humour was an unnerving experience.

Onscreen, Tezuka stared blankly down the camera lens for a moment before he ducked his head down and then threw his ball up for a serve. 

"God, he still looks like he did in middle school."

"That's just as well. He looked like a grown-up at 14," said Sanada.

"You're one to talk." Yukimura watched Tezuka hit a blistering forehand return. "But I meant, his tennis face. That thousand-yard stare."

They all watched the next serve, and Sanada had to agree. "Yeah, it is the same. Brings back memories, doesn't it?"

Renji stretched, and sat forward to pick up his drink. "Not for me. _I_ never got to play him."

Sanada blinked, and looked over at Yukimura, who looked just as startled.

"It's alright. I had my own vendettas to pursue at the time." Renji leaned back, against Sanada's arm, perfectly composed. "And I'm quite satisfied with how that worked out."

"I wish you'd reconsider," said Yukimura, wistfully. "I can't organise the team nearly as well without you."

Renji shook his head gently, his lips quirked in a half-smile. Sanada sighed. He had to agree with Yukimura; he wished Renji would rejoin the team. But it'd always been a given; Renji was never going to sacrifice the time Rikkai's team demanded in his third year of high school. He was going to go to a top-tier university (and Sanada was going to hope desperately that they could still see each other on weekends) and that was not a negotiable goal.

Sanada, meanwhile, was staying on at Rikkai. What point was there in doing anything else? He was needed at the dojo more and more these days, with his grandfather's health in decline; he couldn't leave and that meant no tennis career and -- for the most part -- a massive restriction on his choice of university. Rikkai would be sufficient for his needs, and there'd be people he knew there already, and staying there meant he could afford the time to devote to the dojo and to being Yukimura's second-in-command on the team.

Yukimura was going to play tennis after school, inevitably; only the entire weight of his parents' disapproval had kept him from abandoning high school to join the circuit already. Up in his room, an impressive array of scout cards were stuffed in his top desk drawer. Seeing Tezuka making his way up the professional leagues seemed to be akin to torture for him, and yet he insisted on obsessively watching the matches. Sanada thought he only did so to give himself a target to beat. Tezuka wasn't even the only one of their former peers out on circuit, merely the most prominent one; Sanada occasionally caught up on the progress of Atobe, Ishida and Shiraishi, amongst others. And Echizen, though the boy wonder was taking enforced time off for a knee injury at the moment.

Onscreen, Tezuka's game was a tightly-fought match; his opponent was excellent but Tezuka seemed to be playing at the highest level Sanada'd ever seen him muster. 

"Tezuka's going to lose," said Renji, quietly, as the players switched ends.

Yukimura snorted. "Of course he is. His second serve is consistently awful."

Renji's leg pressed against Sanada's, distractingly. "It's not that. He's just not moving fast enough to deal with the way Kuzui volleys in later sets."

"Hmm." Yukimura nodded thoughtfully. "I think he knows that, though. You think he'll try and use the zone, avoid having to move too much?"

"Surely not." Renji's hand still rested against Sanada's thigh, as if he'd forgotten it was there, but he dragged his thumbnail in gentle spirals every so often, with just enough pressure through the fabric to set all Sanada's nerves on edge.

It took two sets -- which Sanada barely managed to keep his eyes on -- for Tezuka to lose, and then a few minutes for Yukimura to get up and excuse himself, and then finally Sanada was able to turn and catch Renji's mouth in a kiss.

"You," he accused against Renji's grin, "are an evil tease."

"I have no idea what you mean. In any case, Seiichi wouldn't mind even if he noticed."

"Are you sure about that?"

Renji put his hand on Sanada's jaw, and smiled. "Do you know what he's doing right now?"

Sanada glanced up at the ceiling, towards the bathroom where Yukimura had gone. "Hmm. Pretending he's not thinking of Tezuka?"

Renji pulled an exaggerated face of disgust, and poked Sanada in the chest in a clear gesture of reproval. "Ick. I meant he's trying to be nice and give us a little private time together."

"Mm." Sanada batted Renji's hand out of the way, and pulled him closer again. "Well, let's not disappoint him."

Renji smiled and leaned in for a kiss, then paused. "I can't get the image of him thinking about Tezuka out of my head now."

"You're welcome."

Renji was _wonderful_ to kiss when he was trying not to laugh. Sanada grinned into the kiss, and sincerely hoped Tezuka was playing hard-to-get in Yukimura's imagination.


End file.
